


Concerning the Rare and Extremely Dangerous Fiveoh Bird

by fictionalcandie



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Crack, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-12
Updated: 2010-12-12
Packaged: 2018-01-09 13:00:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalcandie/pseuds/fictionalcandie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What it says on the package.</p>
<p>(Or, the Show if it were a nature documentary.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Concerning the Rare and Extremely Dangerous Fiveoh Bird

Migration & Flock Life

The Fiveoh Bird has no known migratory period or patterns. It is believed that the Fiveoh Bird is not only unwilling, but _unable_ to migrate, upon entering a flock. In most cases, a Fiveoh Bird will become part of a flock at birth (and thereafter will rarely, if ever, spend time apart from the flock, though in such rare cases as one leaves, it will always return eventually, if only to die), but occasionally a Fiveoh Bird will be transplanted — sometimes across great distances — through the efforts of a member of the influential Gracie-Coo species. Upon being accepted into a new Fiveoh flock, the Fiveoh Bird and the Gracie-Coo responsible for its transplant will become central to the Fiveoh flock’s function. The Gracie-Coo is general adopted as a mascot; she is treated as member of the flock, and is guarded more carefully than the life of any Fiveoh bird.

Fiveoh flock leaders are chosen based on their willingness to take reckless chances when dealing with their enemies. And also with fire. Fiveoh flock leaders like to surround themselves with trustworthy, badass, smart-mouthed individuals, and usually have a fondness for Transplanted Fiveoh Birds.

The Transplanted Fiveoh Bird will be mocked forever for having originated elsewhere, especially if it chooses to mate with another member of its new Fiveoh flock — but if any one outside the Fiveoh flock attempts to disrespect it, its new flock (and especially its mate) will react with indignation, anger, and violence.

Disrespecting any member of a Fiveoh flock is not recommended — _especially_ not the mate of a flock leader.

(It’s just a bad idea, okay?)

—

Their suspect kept looking at Danny. Not regular looking, either. Creepy-looking. _Mean_ -looking. Like he had _comments_ to make on the hoale and his stupid tie and his stupider loafers and his really, _seriously_ stupid hoale hair.

Steve didn’t like it.

It made Steve _glare_.

The — totally _stupid_ — suspect didn’t even notice.

Danny probably did notice, but he was so busy pretending not to notice the suspect being a jerk that he didn’t acknowledge Steve being scary.

“Danno,” started Steve, without looking away from the suspect, “why don’t you go get me some malasadas?”

Danny gave him a briefly confused look. “You eat those now? Since when do you eat those?”

“Just go get me some,” Steve said again.

Muttering about psychotic SEALS with spilt personalities and food cravings worse than a pregnant woman and how he should _know_ , Danny left.

Steve turned his special shark smile on the suspect, showing as many teeth as possible.

The suspect’s eyes widened.

By the time Danny was back with Steve’s malasadas (he’d eaten half of them on the way, of course), the suspect might have had a bloody nose and several new and interesting bruises forming, but he’d already told them every useful thing they’d expected him to be able to — and several more things, besides.

And he kept calling Danny ‘sir’.

—

Feeding

The Fiveoh Birds share food liberally amongst each other. They prefer to eat seafood and fruits, specifically pineapple.

Transplanted Fiveoh Birds reject the pineapple.

—

“… I thought you said you were getting _food_ ,” Danny complained, scowling at the pizza box on the counter.

Chin glanced between him and the box. “We did.”

Danny pointed angrily at the contents of the pizza box. “ _That_ is not food.”

“You got pineapple on it,” Steve told them, shaking his head, as he entered the HQ, a brown paper sack in his hand. “Danno don’t eat pineapple.”

“But… it’s on _pizza_ ,” said Kono, frowning. “Everyone eats pineapple on pizza.”

“I don’t,” Danny replied, grumbling. He pointed an imperious finger at the sack Steve carried. “What’s that?”

“Danno food.” Steve tossed the bag at him, along with a wide, lopsided grin. “Can’t have you passing out the next time we have to chase somebody.”

Catching the bag, Danny opened it. He started to grin. “Fried chicken? Seriously?”

“It’s cold,” warned Steve, as Danny headed for his desk, looking gleeful. “I made it last night.”

“It looks _delicious_ ,” Danny said, with an expansive gesture of delight.

Kono glanced at Chin. He shook his head warningly. She shrugged and went back to her pizza.

Steve beamed.

—

Mating

The mating habits of the Fiveoh Bird include many swift, abrupt wing motions, usually accompanied by rapid back-and-forth vocalizing. A pair interested in mating will snipe at each other constantly, but react with violence if they’re interrupted by anything other than another Fiveoh Bird. (Fiveoh Birds try to avoid interrupting a pair engaged in a mating dance.) Firefights, which Fiveoh Birds engage in on an alarmingly frequent basis, usually escalate arguments between Fiveoh Birds and their mates.

When a mating or mated pair have severe disagreements, a Gracie-Coo is usually called in to mediate.

Fiveoh Birds mate for life (especially if their lives involve life-or-death situations) and are extremely jealous of their chosen mates.

—

“… and how is it that you don’t even buy the beer when we’re actually _at_ your hou— Why are you looking at me like that?”

Steve barely reacted. He just made a questioning humming noise.

“That look you’re giving me.” Danny frowned. “Cut it out.”

Steve blinked and shook himself, lifting his eyes to meet Danny’s. “What look?” he asked, doing his best innocent impression.

“That look you just had on your face.”

“I didn’t have any look on my face,” said Steve.

Danny rolled his eyes and waved his hands around disbelievingly. “Hah. You know, when I was a kid back in Jersey, I had a dog that used to look at me like that whenever I came home with a cheeseburger,” he said. “It’s creeping me out, McGarrett.”

“Why?”

“Why? _Why_? You have to ask why?” Danny stalked over and thrust an accusing finger in Steve’s face. “We’re _arguing_. I am _yelling_ at you. And you’re looking at me like my dog used to look at what he wanted for dinner!”

“You’re wrong,” Steve said calmly. He sprawled back in his chair, so that Danny had to lean further forward (and prop himself on the armrest of Steve’s chair) in order to keep up the threatening finger shaking. “I’m not looking at you like what I want for dinner.”

Danny scoffed. “Oh, you’re not, huh?”

“Nope.” Steve smiled widely.

Danny narrowed his eyes.

“Now, dessert, on the other hand,” allowed Steve, the skin around his eyes crinkling. “I’m maybe looking at you like I want to have you for dessert.”

Danny spluttered. He rocked back on his heels, taking his hand off the armrest so he could throw both arms around in front of him — until Steve caught them and pulled Danny into his lap. Then Danny had to stop talking altogether because he was busy clutching the front of Steve’s t-shirt and the back of Steve’s head, and Steve was using Danny’s mouth for something else entirely.

**Author's Note:**

> This work can also be read [here on LJ](http://gailsauce.livejournal.com/78081.html) or [here on DW](http://gailsauce.dreamwidth.org/77927.html?mode=reply&style=site).


End file.
